


Peachy Keen

by fabula_prima



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greasers, Alternate Universe - High School, Mages and Templars, Minor Merrill/Carver Hawke, Minor Varric Tethras/Bethany Hawke, Minor m!Hawke/Fenris, Multi, Self-Indulgent, full of cliches, minor Aveline/Donnic, tropes galore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-05 00:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17314469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabula_prima/pseuds/fabula_prima
Summary: The summer before his senior year, Kirkwall High student Bronn Cadash leaves his greaser gang behind to do some soul-searching. He ends up in Antiva City, head-over-heels for the mayor's darling daughter. But when September rolls around, he heads back to Kirkwall, more confused than ever about what he wants out of life. And when Izzy introduces the newest exchange student on the first day of school--who happens to be her cousin--he very nearly loses his cool...





	Peachy Keen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kagetsukai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kagetsukai/gifts).



> Since this is a Grease!AU, the conflict and characters are set within the parameters of high school. But for the sake of convenience and not being totally grody about it, all characters are at least 18 years old (since they are canonically adults anyway). Any relationships between characters is consensual and there are no significant age discrepancies (a matter of months, at most). Much like the 1978 Grease film--which cast 34-year-old Stockard Channing to play a high school senior--this is not meant to be realistic or representative of actual high school students.

Bronn had been led to believe that rain fell on Antiva City nearly every day. Indeed, it had rained like gentle white noise for the first week of his stay, keeping him tied to cafes and his motel. But once the sun had finally peered out from behind so much slate grey, it returned with bright tenacity every morning. Honey-scented embrium sprouted from between every smooth cobblestone, and wisteria hung heavy and heady along fences and windowboxes.

“Wisteria, you called it?” Bronn fingered a spade-shaped petal, one amidst a thousand from a vine that spilled onto the mayor’s balcony.

Josephine craned her neck from her position in his lap to confirm. “I did. You’d really never seen it before?”

“Never seen it grow back home. And if I did, I never knew its name.” He plucked a delicate flower and tucked it into the mass of braided curls she wore, delighted by the contrast of soft purple against rich brown. The young lovers could have been a portrait of decadence, lounged together on a chaise in a shaded corner of a secluded balcony overlooking the Rialto Bay. The lady, Josephine Montilyet was the eldest daughter of the mayor of Antiva City, and fit the picture beautifully in a fine linen sundress--soft, golden, and hazy in the afternoon sun. But the young man--a scruffy figure in jeans and an oil stained t-shirt--was a stranger in the scene, and he was acutely aware of that fact. He was young, freshly eighteen, but life had already worn faint lines at the corners of his eyes. And years of working on cars and motorcycles to help pay his mother’s bills left his hands calloused as they rested on Josephine.

“Do you miss it? Home, I mean?”

He snapped from his reverie and hugged her around the waist. His lips a breath away from her ear, he whispered.  “It’s hard to miss anything when I’ve got my arms full of you.”

“You make it so difficult.” It was a soft chastisement, betrayed by the affection in her voice as she covered his hands with her own. “How will I ever let you go?”

He pressed his mouth beneath her earlobe; not even for a kiss, just for an excuse to breathe in the smell of her shampoo that clung to stray wisps of hair. It made him dizzy. “Don’t, then. Come with me, Josephine.”

She squeezed his hands, even as she turned her head away from his courting lips. “You know I can’t.”

“Your father.”

“My father.” There had been resentment in Bronn’s statement, but only despair in hers. Her father was a fine, respectable man who loved his children fiercely. But he was not overly fond of dwarves and would not approve of Bronn as a suitor. Josephine had tried explaining as much to him when they first crossed paths, but Bronn liked a challenge. And Josie liked the thrill of rebellion. _And the hungry way he kissed_.

“I’ll come back to you,” he muttered.

She twisted in his arms to face him properly. “Oh my love. Perhaps we should let it be what it is. A beautiful summer affair.”

He brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “I wanna be with you, Josie. I’ve never felt--”

“Bronn Cadash, you’ll break my heart.”

“I would never.”

His palm curved against her jaw, his thumb swept beneath her bottom lip, and he pulled her to him. The kiss, like every other kiss he drew her into, threatened to swallow her whole and she surrendered to it. Every kiss felt like a parting kiss, with a full-bodied embrace and hands tangled in her hair. For all his rugged exterior, his lips were plush and pink and she smiled against them at such a contradiction.

A voice called from inside the house and the lovers snapped apart with a shared gasp. _“Josephine? Oh Josie, sweetling, are you home?”_

“My father,” she groaned, fingertips to her lips as if she might be able to feel the lingering kiss there. They both stood from the chaise, Josephine smoothing the wrinkles of her butter-yellow dress.

“I leave tonight.”

She glanced into her room, nerves sparking to life, and then at the trellis down which he was preparing to climb. “We will be gone at a dinner all evening.”

Stepping over the balcony railing, he gripped the makeshift ladder with one hand and reached his other out to her. “Then this is it.”

She laced her fingers with his and leaned against the rail. Another kiss would undo her, so she pressed her nose against his. “The end.”

“Cheer up love.” He kissed the tip of her nose, teasing a sad smile from her. “You’ve not seen the last of me.”


End file.
